


all the wolves will dance

by millimallow



Series: the world of owa [15]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Casual drinking, F/M, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 20:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17874683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millimallow/pseuds/millimallow
Summary: part 16 of the world of owa anthology. set in the fantastical corilid range.A mysterious brew and the full moon. Travelling isn't always so bad.





	all the wolves will dance

“i’ve been all around this fucking continent, and i gotta hand it to you- this place sucks like ass.”

“shut up and hand me the xylis.”

the corilid range is a mysterious place. it possesses a dense magical energy, all due to the weave overflow occurring here and refracting off of the mountains. the further into it you get, the more danger and excitement awaits you. i’ll be frank with you, though: i couldn’t give two shits about it with a crossbow to my head. now, i’m not a pussy or something, but this place.. well, it’s weird as shit. anything else you can just brute force, but this place pulls the rug out from under you like it’s a competitive sport.

so if i felt like this about it, i’d have to fuck up bad to willingly let myself come there, right?

precisely. and i’d have to be an even bigger sucker to hand over the xylis.

“hell no.”

“why not?”

“because it’s mine, genius. i bought it, i packed it, i drink it.”

now my travelling companion is giving me that weird look again. she really did a number on me getting me to come here with her.

“that shit has _so_ much alcohol in it.” now she’s eyeing the canister rather than me. honestly, i feel more protective over it than myself. “if you drink all of that, you’re going to knock yourself unconscious in an hour.”

so i take another swig and smile.

“i think you forgot to mention the downside.”

it tastes herbal, bitter, with a hint of aniseed. aside from wanting to remain tipsy for as much as this journey as possible, i’m reluctant to hand it over because i know this shit is pretty terrible for most. you have to grow up drinking it to get accustomed. well, not that i drank as a child. i mean the non-alcoholic version.

“the downside,” she says, “is that if you pass out, i’m going to leave you here so you can be eaten by wolves.”

“wait, there are wolves around here?” i ask.

“of course there are wolves around here! what do you think has been howling through the night for the last half an hour or so?”

oh yeah. the howling. i kind of didn’t think about that as much as i should have.

“…other drunk, bored people smuggling artifacts across the border?” i know it’s not a good answer, especially when she tuts and rolls her eyes, their oceanic shine revealing their position in the night.

“i can’t believe that you were born in trevailia and i can still recognize a wolf better than you.”

“i come from the part where there aren’t any wolves, actually. the… th- the part without the big foresty trees.”

“city.” i splutter with laughter.

“shitty.”

“right, i’m leaving you for the wolves regardless of whether you hand over the fucking xylis or not.” with nothing to lose now, i shove the canister back into my hip bag.

“you lost your chance there, buddy.”

“that stuff tastes like hell anyway.” my tipsy brain ignores the many logical fallacies wound up in this.

“where do you come from that makes anything better, then?” xylis is not my favourite alcohol by far, but it’s the historical produce of my home _dissel_ back in trevailia, and the whole “smuggling historical artifacts to enemies of the state” guilt sets in when anything about it gets bought up. as if i could redeem myself after this.

“you know exactly where the hell i come from. i told you, earlier, and also you could just look at me-“

oh yeah. pointy ears like mine, but darker skin and pitch-black hair. yeah, and shark teeth. stuff that should have been harder to miss or forget about, honestly.

“i got it, i got it! u’baani. mangrove elf. one of my cousins many, many times removed.” her eyes shut to a slit.

“we made out yesterday, so don’t make this weird by saying stuff like that. otherwise i’ll leave you for the wolves, and i won’t even give you a kiss goodbye, you weirdo.”

“i dunno why you’re so sure that the wolves will eat me.” i’m looking down onto the valley beneath us now, sitting under where we’re perched on a steepening hill. from here, shadowy four-legged figures move in conjunction under the light of the full moon, unnaturally soft and quiet. hypnotic, almost. “they seem pretty occupied right now. all that running around and shit.”

“they’re wolves, nylos. i think that running around is pretty important to what they do.”

“i know, but, like… they’re in tandem, aren’t they? they’re doing it in some kind of pattern, as a pack.” it feels like a stupid statement to make, but i can feel her eyes squinting for a better look. she ditched her glasses earlier on for disguise purposes, and never put them back on until we were hiding around the mountain edges.

“woah. yeah.”

the leader of the pack runs forward in one direction, following the trail of the flat land. behind them are two others, almost as fast and swift but trailing in respect to their leader. then four more, increasingly subservient, followed eventually by pups defended by the strong and well-built at the back. eventually, after running for a great length in one direction, they curve back, fur swept by the wind and illuminated by the moon. howling loud and strong in the freedom of the wild.

“you think this is something to do with the corilid range?” she asks, and i shrug.

“i’ve never seen wolves do anything like this. except the howling at the moon. what about you?”

“i don’t exactly see wolves very often in the mangroves.”

when the pack leader howls, it reverberates across the steep sides as if it were a silver bell.

“oh. so this must be kind of special for you, right?”

“yeah.”

without a word, i slide the xylis canister over to her, and she takes a swig.

“these things are a long way from home for me."


End file.
